


why don't you be the writer and assign the words i say

by lucasashtons



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Author!Ashton, I used to 5sos songs to title Ashton's books sue me, M/M, seriously blink and you'll miss it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 07:56:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3439493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucasashtons/pseuds/lucasashtons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ashton debates telling him his name, wonders if it will click in Luke’s head that he was the author of the book his friend had dubbed ‘the greatest’. Then again, he’s not even sure if the guy likes his book, so maybe he should keep it safe. </p>
<p>or Ashton meets Luke on a public transport and notices that he's reading his book, but chooses not to say anything about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	why don't you be the writer and assign the words i say

**Author's Note:**

> You should all start assuming that either Pary or Ellie gave me story ideas from now on because I think it's going to continue to happen. So, this lovely idea came from Ellie, who texted me one afternoon about a 'author of book gets seated next to someone reading their book and making entertaining faces at each scene' au, and it got out of hand. 
> 
> Enjoy :)

Desolate, anguished, shattered, inconsolable. If you were to ask Ashton how he felt at that moment, he would respond with those words. Meaningless, hollow, and insubstantial would also be a perfect choice of words. Any word that could describe how utterly broken he was could fit in this situation.

He’s standing in the doorway of his brand new flat, staring at the vacant walls and hollow rooms that await to be filled with Ashton’s belongings. It’s smaller than his last flat, considerably, with only three rooms in the place altogether. The kitchen could easily be called a kitchenette and the living room was only slightly larger than the bedroom. The bathroom only held an old fashioned bath tub with no shower head, a toilet hidden behind the door, and a sink that didn’t really dispense water well. It was a shoe-box of a place, but from this day forward it was home.

Ashton remembers when he lived in the apartment complexes in the city, the gorgeous apartments with beautiful interior and Egyptian cotton sheets. He remembers waking up in the morning to arms wrapped around him and holding him close with kisses pressed to his cheek as they giggled and remembered the night before. He remembers notebooks stacking higher and higher with words describing how incredibly happy he was in those moments and the love that filled him completely.

Various good memories, all shattered the moment he came home to find the flat vacated and his belongings packed up in boxes. Screaming, tears, all leading up to discovering that the love he had been writing pages and pages about was never real. He looks back on the last words of the one person he swore he loved more than himself, and they continue to break him two weeks later.

_‘Love is just a fantasy Ashton, a daydream. It’s about time you woke up.’_

What if he didn’t want to wake up? What if this daydream he created was better than anything reality could conjure up? In the end he was just left picking up the pieces of the best two years of his life, left with nothing but a few belongings and a heart emptied of all the love he gave away.

He’s walking towards his new bedroom when his hip smacks into one of the boxes, tumbling over and spilling out notebook after notebook. They scatter across the empty living room, sliding against the hardwood floor, various pages that had been torn haphazardly from the notebooks floating to the ground around him. Ashton lets out a frustrated huff before kneeling down to pick them up, only to stop as one of the pages catches his attention.

It’s those words, scrawled in his messy handwriting across a piece of loose leaf paper, that spark something in him. Ashton finds himself abandoning the other boxes that need to be unpacked, pulling his laptop out from his backpack and powering it up. He opens up a word document and begins spilling every single thing he’s felt the past few weeks since he lost what he believed to be the love of his life. All the pain, heartache, and misery that’s clouded him for days pours out of his fingertips as he types.

Later that night, with his butt numb from sitting on the hardwood floor and half eaten Chinese takeout sitting by his side, he’s written what he feels to be a masterpiece.

*

“Are you reading a _book?”_

Michael doesn’t even turn to look up at him from his spot on the couch, eyes glued to the pages as he adjusts himself into a more comfortable position. It’s a strange sight for Luke, seeing his best friend engrossed in a book that wasn’t an adaptation of a video game or a comic. Mostly Michael read take out menus to restaurants and that was that.

“Alright, I’m just going to eat all of this takeout myself then!” Luke says overdramatically as he pops the top to his Mandarin chicken, sticking one of the plastic forks from the restaurant into the container and popping a piece into his mouth. “Mike I’m being serious come put the book down and eat.”

Michael lifts a finger up, eyes never leaving the pages. “I’m almost finished, I have to see if….” He trails off before he can finish his sentence, Luke rolling his eyes as he dumps his chicken onto a plate with some fried rice. He walks over to the couch and plops down next to Michael, grabbing the remote and turning the TV on.

It’s a few minutes later that Michael lets the book fall from his hands, it hitting the floor right on its spine. There’s a look on his face that seems to read betrayal, but before Luke can ask why his best friend is turning to him with his mouth open. “Luke, you need to read this book.”

Luke raises an eyebrow, scooping some more fried rice into his mouth. “Are you alright?”

Michael shakes his head, but also nods right after. It’s confusing, but Luke notices his friend doesn’t look like he knows what to think at the moment. He seems stuck, lost. Luke’s never seen his friend like this before and it’s creeping him out. “Just, Luke you need to read this book.” He gets up from the couch and heads for the Chinese food in the kitchen. Luke places his paper plate on their coffee table before reaching down and pulling the paperback book up from the ground, turning it to read the title.

“ _Close as Strangers?”_ Luke says aloud, turning the book around the read the summary. “Since when were you into romance novels Mikey? I thought you said they were all cheesy and terribly written?” He puts the book on the coffee table and turns his attention back to his own plate of food, Michael walking back over to him and sitting down with his own food.

“I know what I said!” Michael manages to say with a mouthful of sesame seed chicken. Luke cringes as a bits of food spit from his friend’s mouth and land on the couch, making him scoot away. Michael swallows. “Sorry, but listen, okay Calum made me read this and-“

“Of course it was Calum,” Luke rolls his eyes, getting up from the couch and tossing his paper plate in the garbage. “If Calum asked you to jump off of a bridge, would you do it Michael?” He says it in a motherly voice, just trying to take the piss, and judging from Michael’s frown he guesses it worked. He smirks. “I’m kidding, go on.”

Michael huffs. “Nope, I’m not giving you an explanation now. I’ll I’m going to say is that you need to read this novel, because it is probably the greatest book of all time.” He shovels another large amount of chicken into his mouth before tossing the book towards Luke, the blond boy barely catching it from where he stands before it lands in the sink. “Trust me!”

Luke sighs, looking at the cover again. It’s just a picture of calendar on a desk, various dates crossed out with x marks until finally there is a date circled. Luke isn’t sure what on Earth that means towards the story, but he’s starting to find himself growing curious about what it symbolizes. He looks up at Michael and sighs deeply. “Fine, I’ll read this book, but if it ends up sucking ass I’m killing you.”

“You won’t regret it!” Michael assures him before shoveling more of the food in his mouth, Luke laughing and shaking his head in disgust before he retreats to his bedroom. He flings himself down onto his bed and opens the book to the first page, flicking on his lamp. _Michael is probably pulling my leg,_ He thinks as he begins the first chapter. _This book is probably awful._

He doesn’t get past the first chapter before he finds himself dozing off to sleep.

*

Writing a highly successful novel about the guy that broke your heart has definitely changed Ashton’s life.

He remembers sitting on the hardwood floor of the shoe box apartment, miserable and spilling his emotions out into what is now one of the highest selling novels of the year. It’s amazing, what heartbreak drove him to and what came of just projecting word vomit onto a page. He’s managed to move out of the shoe box apartment into a nicer condo down town, one that is much more spacious and fits him, and he’s bringing in loads of cash.

It’s been a year since the old love of his life left and he’s never felt better.

Ashton would be lying if he said he didn’t still think about him, how he’s doing after a year. Sometimes he finds himself looking for him on the streets when he’s headed to the bars or on the bus when he’s heading towards the publisher’s building, his workplace. If he’s being honest, Ashton just wants to see him again to rub in his face that everything he said Ashton couldn’t do, he did.

There’s still the pain in his heart though, the permanent scar that he left when he walked out the door. Every now and then Ashton breaks down, sobs into his pillow at night, and he’s not afraid to admit that. Usually he writes most of his emotions down on paper in a new story, other times he just lets it out and screams into his pillow.

Ashton’s sitting at his bus stop, awaiting the bus that transports him to his office when he notices the person next to him is reading his book. It makes him smile, seeing random people on the streets or in coffee shops reading the story of his personal heartbreak. His semi-autobiographical story has seemed to enthrall millions of readers and it always makes Ashton’s day when he sees at least one of those few million reading his novel.

This one, in particular, is making him smile. His facial expressions are changing as he continues to read, ranging from laughter to seriousness. It makes Ashton wonder what part he is currently at when he reads.

“What are you reading?” he asks, smile playing at his lips as the guy turns his attention away from the novel to face Ashton. There’s a beautiful pair of ocean eyes staring back at him, looking a little far away, as if he’s still in the universe of the book. He’s cute, Ashton decides.

“Oh! Um, _Close as Strangers?_ It’s some book my roommate Michael recommended I read,” He places a book mark into the book before closing it and sliding it into his bag. “He pretty much dubbed it ‘the greatest book of all time’, so I figured I’d take a look.” He chewing at the lip ring on his bottom lip, adding more onto the cuteness factor he’s already set in Ashton’s eyes. “I’m Luke.”

Ashton debates telling him his name, wonders if it will click in Luke’s head that he was the author of the book his friend had dubbed ‘the greatest’. Then again, he’s not even sure if the guy _likes_ his book, so maybe he should keep it safe.

“Fletcher,” he tells him, keeping it safe with his middle name. It’s stupid, he knows he’s being stupid, but he really doesn’t want to risk the chance of making the guy uncomfortable with needing to necessarily ‘like’ his book just because the author is sitting next to him. He wants to hear the guy’s honest opinion on his novel without the pressure of saying it was wonderful just because he was right there. “Nice to meet you Luke.”

“Likewise,” Luke replies before the bus pulls up to the stop, the two of them piling on. They end up sitting next to each other a little towards the back of the bus, Luke leaning himself against the window and pulling the book back out of the bag and turning to the bookmark. The only sound now is from the bus engine running as they travel down the road, some chatter from the other habitants on the bus mixed in. Ashton is about to put his headphones in and just listen to his phone when he hears Luke muttering next to him.

“You okay?” Ashton asks with a laugh, noticing Luke’s frustrated expression on his face.

Luke shakes his head, seemingly annoyed with whatever is happening in the book. “I can’t find a reason to like this main character! So far all I’ve read about this guy is he makes the world’s worst decisions and is clueless when it comes to the fact that his neighbor is in love with him.”

“Who knows?” Ashton says, feeling slightly offended that Luke unknowingly insulted the character based off of him. “Maybe he’ll surprise you?”

Luke looks over at him, eyebrow raised. “I’m getting the feeling you’ve read this book before.” There’s an amused smile along with it, one that Ashton finds just as adorable as the rest of this guy. He opens his mouth, about to further the conversation, when the bus comes to a stop and Luke is getting up. “This is my stop, it was nice meeting you Fletcher!”

“You too!” Ashton calls after him, the feeling of sadness hitting his chest. It’s ridiculous, but he’s really hoping that he might see Luke again, even if it is just a small glance. There was something about him that just made Ashton feel better, warmer in a way.

He’s goes to work with a smile on his face and the hope of meeting him again.

*

Luke wonders if he’ll meet the cute guy from the bus again.

He’s sitting at the bus stop a week later, reading the book Michael recommended to him. He’s hoping Fletcher is here today to discuss more of it with him, mainly because Luke has finally gained an interest in the novel. The author finally picked up the pace and has now thrown him into the heartbreak and despair of the characters, and while Luke wants to finish it to see how it ends, he also wants Fletcher to be there when he does.

He’s not sure what created his fascination with a guy he met only a week ago. All he knows is that since they met all that’s ran through Luke’s head, aside from the novel, is honey colored hair and a dimpled smile. Luke finds himself feeling the same thing the main character, Donovan, feels for his neighbor in the novel. Thoughts of Fletcher coursing through his head and their short time together, a small smile creeping onto his lips at the thought of him. Luke hasn’t had a crush on someone in quite a while, but he swears he has a crush on Fletcher.

There’s a person sitting next to him now, peeking over to read into his book. “Getting closer to the end I see.”

It’s Fletcher, bright hazel eyes and a smirk on his face as Luke lifts his gaze from the book to offer him a warm smile. “That’s right,” he responds, putting a bookmark in the book and closing it. “I’ve started to really enjoy Donovan now that he’s not being oblivious to Joshua’s feelings for him. I’ve actually grown too really like the guy.”

It’s the way Fletcher’s eyes light up that makes Luke’s smile widen, the guy appearing ecstatic at Luke’s words. “Really? That makes me really happy, I was worried you were going to dislike him for the entire novel.” There’s something in the way Fletcher says those words that makes Luke wonder exactly how much love Fletcher has for this character. The way he talks about him seems like he knows the guy on a personal level almost, something Luke can relate to but has never seen on another person before. He grins.

“I only have a couple of chapters to go, I’m hoping I can finish reading it by the time I get to my stop,” Luke tells him, getting up and grabbing his bag as the bus arrives. “So no spoilers, alright? I’m on a mission.”

Fletcher giggles. “Oh course, I’ll just listen to my music or work on some other things.” He gives Luke’s arm a gentle squeeze before hopping onto the bus and sliding in his seat, Luke sitting next to him and pulling the book out from his backpack. He opens the page back up and picks up where he left off, in the middle of a conversation with Donovan and Joshua that seemed pretty intense.

He’s a few more pages in when he startles Fletcher from where he’s writing something down by cursing loudly. A few people on the bus have turned to look over at them, scowls on their faces at Luke’s foul language but Luke can’t bring himself to apologize to those people, nor does he care to apologize. He’s re-reading the page rapidly, blue eyes trying to see if he read it wrong. Fletcher’s looking at his curiously before Luke finds himself mumbling.

“What the fuck,” he says under his breath, reading a few more pages. “What. The. Fuck.” A few pages more and he’s reached the end of the novel, unsure if he should be satisfied with the ending or down right furious. It’s a mix between both at the moment as he turns to face Fletcher, who has a look of sympathy on his face.

“I see you’ve finished it,” Fletcher says calmly, closing his notebook and putting it back into his bag. “Thoughts?”

“Thoughts?” Luke responds, his voice sounding far away as he tries to collect his very thoughts on the book. “All that’s going on in my head right now is what in the ever loving fuck did I just read? I mean, it was a fantastic novel and everything but holy shit.” He’s running a hand through his hair as Fletcher gives him a smirk. “Why didn’t you warn me that the author was going to fucking _kill the main character?_ ”

“Because that would have been a spoiler,” Fletcher says flatly. “Why would I spoil one of the biggest plot twists in the book for you? It would have killed the surprise.”

Luke frowns. “Well now I’ve got to kill the author, whoever this,” He looks at the back of the novel, where the author’s information and picture is. He pauses as his eyes trace the picture on the back of the book, recognition crossing his features as he stares at the author’s face and back at Fletcher. “Ashton Irwin is.” He finishes, staring up at Fletcher in surprise.

Fletcher blushes a deep red. “Could you at least put off killing me until after I’ve asked you to grab lunch with me today?” He’s giving Luke a cheesy grin that makes him smile and laugh, all thoughts of brutally murdering him for the book’s ending going away as he reaches for Fletcher’s hand, giving it a squeeze.

“Why didn’t you just tell me you were the author?” Luke asks him, running a thumb across Fletcher’s, _Ashton’s,_ knuckles. He’s mainly doing this action to assure Ashton that he’s not going to go nuts on him, a promise that he won’t. Plus Ashton’s hand is incredibly soft and the skin feels nice underneath the pad of Luke’s thumb.

Ashton shrugs. “Guess I was too worried that you would treat me like some celebrity? I never know with people anymore so sometimes I pretend to be someone else, unless I know them that is.” He smiles at the sight of their intertwined hands. “Fletcher is actually my middle name.”

“I like it,” Luke responds, feeling brave as he pecks Ashton’s cheek. He watches as it turns a bright pink and grins. “I do have to ask though, why on _Earth_ would you kill off Donovan? I mean, he and Joshua were finally resolving their issues together, they were so close to getting back together when suddenly their mugged and _he gets stabbed._ ”

He feels Ashton tense up, and wonders if he hit a nerve with the subject. He knows authors have a sense of closeness with their characters, wonders if Ashton feels that way about his. He presses a kiss to Ashton’s jaw then, hoping to calm the author down. Ashton closes his eyes and sighs before tightening his grip on Luke’s hand.

“Authors tend to write about their personal experiences from time to time,” Ashton begins, turning his head to look Luke right in the eye. “It helps them remember the good times, helps them get past the bad times. _Close as Strangers_ helped me get past a pretty rough time, a time where I felt completely broken.” He grabs Luke’s other hand, both of their hands now intertwined. “I modeled Donovan after myself, while Joshua was modeled after my ex-boyfriend. We, um, we went through a pretty rough time together, just like Donovan and Joshua. We had been together for two years when suddenly he left me with nothing but his confession that love was-“

“ _Love is just a fantasy Donovan, a daydream. It’s about time you woke up.”_ Luke recited, noticing the tears forming in Ashton’s eyes. “He actually said those words to you, didn’t he?”

Ashton nods sadly. “After he’d left, I felt like a part of me had _died._ I had spent two years in love with him only to discover that he didn’t love me the way I loved him. I was heartbroken for weeks, which led me to write _Close as Strangers._ As for killing of Donovan, I did that to symbolize how a part of me died when my boyfriend left. It felt necessary.” There’s a tear trailing down his cheek, Luke removing one of his hands from Ashton’s grip to wipe it away.

“It’s an amazing novel Ashton,” Luke tells him, hand resting on the guy’s cheek with his thumb wiping at one of his teary eyes. “Reading it, I could feel the heartbreak in Donovan, your heartbreak. You’ve written one of the greatest pieces of literature I’ve ever read, and as much as it hurts to know it’s semi-autobiographical, it also makes me happy.”

Ashton raises an eyebrow at that. “How does it make you happy?”

“Because,” Luke says, resting their foreheads together. The closeness is maddening, the desperation to close it and press their lips together almost driving Ashton mad, but he wants to hear Luke’s answer. “Even though Donovan’s story didn’t end happily, that doesn’t mean Ashton’s can’t.”

“How are you going to make my story happy?” Ashton dares, eyes flickering to Luke’s lips. They are tempting, so tempting. There’s a sparkle in Luke’s eyes as he leans forward and closes the gap between them, his lips slotting into Ashton’s perfectly, like a missing piece to the puzzle. Ashton wonders if their lips were meant to fit this way, if they were truly meant for each other. They move in perfect harmony, Ashton’s lips a bit rough from the lack of moisture while Luke’s are soft and pliant.

When the need for air becomes great they pull away, but Luke’s hand remains cupping his face. “By loving you more than your ex could, by showing you that there are second chances out there to be happy and complete you story with a happily ever after.”

Ashton can’t help but snort, though Luke’s words make his heart soar. “So, you are making my story into a fairy tale?”

“Just call me Prince Charming.” Luke grins before kissing Ashton again.

*

It is a few months later when Ashton has finished his next book, titled _End up Here._ It’s about a broken hearted man who happens to begin a relationship with a guy he met on a public transport, leaving him to beg the question, “How did we end up here?”

The dedication inside is Luke’s favorite part.

_To my wonderful, amazing Luke. Thank you for giving me my happily ever after.I love you._

“You are such a sap,” Luke tells him as he reads the dedication over his boyfriend’s shoulder, turning his head to give him a kiss. “I love you too.”

Ashton chuckles, saving the document before shutting his lap top and placing it on the coffee table. He pulls Luke down onto the couch with him, lying down on his back as their lips connect in a sweet kiss. “Thank you giving me my happily ever after Prince Charming.”

Luke laughs against his lips, pecking them gently before gazing at him with those beautiful blue eyes he fell in love with. “Thank you Michael for making me read your book to begin with. I probably never would have met you if it weren’t for him. Maybe you should put him in the dedication as well?”

Ashton hums, pondering the thought before shaking his head. “Nah, there’s only one person who deserves to be in that dedication, and that is you.” He taps the tip of Luke’s nose, making his face scrunch up cutely. “I love you.”

And this time, love isn’t just some daydream that Ashton created. Lying here on his living room couch with his boyfriend on top of him, kissing him and whispering the sentiment back, he realizes that love was no longer a fantasy, but a reality.

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on tumblr at lucasashtons :)


End file.
